


Spar Session

by mansikka



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: M/M, Sparring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-02-05 23:17:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12804519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mansikka/pseuds/mansikka
Summary: When Alec's had a bad day at the Institute, Magnus offers to help him work it out sparring.





	Spar Session

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sarcasticnotsardonic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarcasticnotsardonic/gifts).



> Since they were the ones who not-so-subtly hinted that this got written, this is for sarcasticnotsardonic! x

“And she said, if we have even one more mission that goes ahead without being sanctioned, they’re sending Aldertree back to _investigate_ _my_ _methods of running the Institute_ —despite everything _he_ did. Says maybe he can give me some _pointers_ on how it should be done,”  

Alec can feel Magnus’ eyes on him as he paces back and forth through the apartment, so incensed that he doesn’t notice the discreet flourish of fingers sweeping some of Magnus’ most treasured possessions out of his furious path in case he knocks into them in passing.  

“Alexander; I’m sure it was little more than an idle threat. I know you are trying your hardest to ensure a better, more cohesive working relationship between those under your charge, and that the Clave must be proud of your efforts. These accusations—”

“But they’re not _accusations_ ,” Alec protests, spinning on his heel to face Magnus for a second and seeing him teetering on the spot for what has to be the wildness in his eyes, “they’re _true_ , ‘cos Jace doesn’t give a damn about a single rule, thinks it’s fine to just go off and do whatever the hell he feels like, whether I’m the one that has to deal with the fallout of it or not,”

“That’s… selfish,” Magnus settles for saying, an expression of distaste crossing his face that says he’d choose other, less kind words, if he wasn’t carefully selecting those that won’t be offensive about his parabatai. Alec doesn’t care what Magnus has to say about Jace right now, negative or otherwise; selfish doesn’t even cut it.

“It _is_ selfish,” Alec agrees, gesturing with a violently pointed finger towards the balcony, “and he’s out there, with Clary on some kinda _date night_ —when I couldn’t even get home in time to have _dinner_ with you—with not a care in the damn world, ‘cos it’s not _him_ that’s gotta prove himself over and over, go through all these _lectures_ every time he screws up,”

Magnus’ hands flare down by his sides as though he wants to reach out and placate him, but Alec’s in too foul a mood to go anywhere near anyone, let alone Magnus, who doesn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of his anger.

“Okay,” Magnus agrees, carefully, his fingers flaring out again, and Alec wants to climb the walls, “tell me how I can help, Alec,”

“Unless you can conjure Jace some damn common sense. Make him think of anyone but _himself_ for once,” Alec grumbles, pacing away from him again and jolting to the side for how close he comes to walking into a bookcase.

“If you were at the Institute right now, instead of home—”

“I’m pissing you off, aren’t I?”

“Alexander, no. Not at all,” Magnus says, starting to walk towards him, and coming to an abrupt stop as Alec takes a step backwards. The hurt on his face dulls Alec’s mood immediately, and he surges forward, wrapping Magnus up in his arms, burying his face into his neck.

“Magnus, I’m sorry. I don’t wanna take this out on you. Maybe I should go out. Run, or something—”

“Alexander,” Magnus sighs, pulling back and cupping his face, staring until Alec feels his breath calming just for looking at him.

“I’m sorry,”

“Don’t be sorry,” Magnus smiles, dropping his hands, then slotting his fingers through Alec’s and squeezing, “just… tell me how I can help. What would you do if you were at the Institute, and you needed to… I don’t know. Let off some steam?”

“You know what I’d do. I’d train. Maybe spar. Definitely spar,” Alec amends with a huff that comes out more like a growl, “with _Jace_. But since he’s the reason I wanna… I wanna break something, I can’t exactly go do that, can’t I?”

“How about sparring with me?” Magnus suggests, and Alec snorts, squeezes his fingers, and receives an even more wounded look. “What? You don’t think I can?”

“It’s not that,” Alec denies, because it isn’t, not in the slightest. He knows Magnus’ strength, has been pinned down, pressed effortlessly against walls, even picked up and carried by Magnus on numerous occasions. And that’s without even taking into consideration what he’s like when he’s performing magic. It’s not that at all.

“Then what is it?” Magnus urges, a slightly mistrustful scowl pinching his brow.

“It’s ‘cos it’s… it’s _you_ , Magnus,”

“Which means?”

“Which means,” Alec sighs, hooking his elbows over his shoulders, “that I… I never even thought about sparring with you before. I mean, I think about doing all kinds of _other_ things with you,” he adds, nudging a little closer so they’re flush together, “but never—never _that_ ,”

“Do you believe me incapable?”

“Magnus,” Alec laughs, dropping kisses into his neck, wondering if the slight petulance in his tone is a deliberate attempt by Magnus to lighten his mood, “when I drank one too many glasses of champagne at that warlock wedding we went to in… where’s that place? In France?”

“Limoges,” Magnus supplies, and when Alec leans back he sees a hint of a smile making his lips curl up.

“Right. Limoges,” Alec agrees, pressing a kiss to his temple, “you gave me a piggyback all the way back to the hotel we were staying at, ‘cos you said it was too beautiful a night to be portaling anywhere,”

“It’s true,” Magnus smiles, his face shifting to one of happy memories, “the moonlight was exceptional,”

“It was like I was made of paper,” Alec laughs, “you didn’t even… it was like I weighed nothing,”

“Perhaps I enjoyed it,” Magnus says, one hand up to his earcuff and playing with it in that endearing thing he does when he’s a little embarrassed. Alec kisses him for it, and pulls him into a hug.

“And that guy. The one you took out the day we first met,” Alec adds, remembering with a heat pressing on his stomach the flourishing of Magnus’ magic that had left the guy out cold.

“What of him?”

“I’m saying, Magnus, it’s not about me not thinking you’re _capable_. It’s just ‘cos… why’d I wanna think about _fighting_ with you in any way, even if it’s—especially if it’s just ‘cos I’m in a bad mood?”

“Alexander,” Magnus huffs, raising an eyebrow and looking back at him in clear mischief, “have we, or have we not, indulged in numerous… _sessions_ , of angry sex, when either one of us has made the other annoyed?”

“You make it sound like we fight all the time,” Alec protests, wrapping him up tighter and shaking his head, because that’s not true at all.

“I only meant that—”

“I’m not saying I didn’t enjoy it though,” Alec interrupts, remembering the last time they’d been snappy with each other when he’d not been as careful as Magnus thought he could have been on a mission, and Magnus accused him of being careless while Alec complained he was being overprotective, and the resultant stiffness in his legs and very pleasant ache he had for at least a couple of days after they had made up. Magnus grins as though he’s remembering the exact same thing, and presses firmer against him.

“We could spar, Alexander,” Magnus tells him, “as it happens, I have not had the chance to practice my magic for a couple of days. Perhaps we would be doing each other a favor,”

“You wanna practice your magic on me, Magnus?” Alec smiles, thinking of so many occasions when he’s watched, both discreetly and not so discreetly, as Magnus trained with his magic. That heat in his stomach kicking up another notch.

“Not the magic part itself, necessarily,” Magnus tells him, “but the movements. The… physical aspect. That would be good,”

Alec thinks of Magnus shirtless, of the graceful, fluid way he works through the tai chi and other forms he uses when practicing his magic, and smiles. “I... can’t guarantee I’ll be able to keep my hands to myself,”

“Isn’t that the entire point of sparring, Alexander?” Magnus teases, tilting his chin up to be kissed.

“If you were planning on putting me in a better mood, you’ve already done it,” Alec tells him, cupping his face and pulling him into a kiss, sighing away some of his earlier rage.

“It was,” Magnus admits, “but I am still more than happy to do the other part,”

“Like… here?”

Magnus huffs, flourishes his fingers, and the room shifts before them; furniture back against the walls, more floor space than Alec thinks there was a few seconds before, and when he steps back, Magnus is shrugging out of his shirt, wearing only these clingy black lounge pants that Alec loves seeing him in, looking back at him in expectation.    

“Where else?” Magnus counters, reaching out to tug at Alec’s shirt. “Are you going to change?”

Alec finds himself snorting in disbelief but then nods, walking away to their bedroom and reaching in the closet for something to wear. He debates wearing a shirt, thinks of Magnus shirtless, feels his stomach flip, and decides if they’re really going to do this, then they’re going to be on as equal footing as he can make it; heading back out there shirtless will at least keep Magnus distracted for a couple of minutes, he knows that—and it’s not even that he means to be vain. The look Magnus gives him sometimes, wherever they are, tells Alec he’d have him on his back or up against the nearest flat surface on almost any occasion without the slightest hesitation, if they weren’t in the company of others, or supposed to be acting professionally.

“So?” Magnus says as he walks back out, eyes drifting down over his bare chest and his lips curving up into an approving smile. “Will you spar with me, Alexander?”

“Is this… are we doing this… Magnus; you sure about this?”

“Alexander,” Magnus replies, raising an eyebrow, “whatever happens here in our home need go no further. No one needs to know that the Head of the New York Institute got his ass kicked by his warlock boyfriend. Your secret will be safe with me,”

Alec knows he’s being purposely goading. He knows Magnus is appealing to that competitive nature they both have; perhaps even emulating Jace’s sometimes-arrogance a little to get to him.

“Ass kicked, huh?”

“Yes,”

“No one’d believe it anyway,” Alec says, loping towards him, watching Magnus’ answering grin and feeling his heart begin to thud, “they’d just think you used your magic. Probably don’t think you could do anything to me with just your bare hands,”

“And yet,” Magnus says, stepping closer and raising his chin in challenge, “you, perhaps more than anyone, are well aware of almost everything I can do with my bare hands,”

“I think that’s technically cheating,”  

“What is?” Magnus asks, another step towards him.

“Distracting me,”

“Distracting you,” Magnus replies with an edge to his voice, eyes lingering over his chest before looking back up.

“Yes, Magnus,” Alec tells him, doing exactly the same, his mind wandering to the kisses he’d traced out every hard line of muscle on Magnus’ chest with just yesterday, and has to shake his head.

“Can I help it if you lack focus, Shadowhunter?”  

Alec’s stomach gives an excited jolt, and before he can second-guess himself or overthink it, he’s stepping forward, pushing Magnus back with just the press of their chests together. He makes it one step, perhaps one step and a stumble, before Magnus is shoving back, one hand gripping his wrist and twisting it around so Alec’s arm is at his back.  

Alec jerks out of it, arms around Magnus’ waist to spin him, only for Magnus to duck backwards under his arm, pivot, swinging his leg out to knock Alec to the floor. Before his head touches, Magnus has him pinned, trapped at the wrist and ankle, with the full weight of his chest pinning him down.

“See, Alexander?” Magnus teases in triumph, stirring his hips for a second then ducking down for a quick kiss before sitting back up on his heels. “Lack of focus,”

“Lack of focus, huh?” Alec replies, reaching out to sweep his palms up Magnus’ chest, then the moment Magnus gives him room to move, is sliding his legs up to press his feet flat to the floor, making Magnus slip forward to straddle his chest. Alec swings his legs up to hook around his neck pulling him backwards, laughing at his huff of indignation, and sitting up quickly to spin round and pin Magnus to the floor in turn, stirring his hips over him before leaning down for his own kiss, then rolling on his back beside him.

“That was most definitely cheating,” Magnus laughs, turning and taking Alec’s hand as he hauls him to his feet.  

“Depends on your definition of cheating,” Alec shrugs, and then Magnus’ arms are out again, striking at the soft points in his sides when Alec doesn’t move quick enough, smiling at every block he makes, and smiling harder when he makes contact, twisting from Alec’s grip when he tries to grab at him. Then when Alec does manage to get his hand tight around his wrist, Magnus is spinning and turning his back to him, backing into his chest with such force that Alec ends up flying over his shoulder and is flat on his back again.

Magnus turns, feet either side of his hips as he grins down at him, letting out a hard gasp of surprise when Alec gets the back of his knees and pulls, and Magnus is sinking to the floor once again.

“I hope your training sessions with Jace are not quite like _this_ ,” Magnus says, looking down at the way he’s managed to land awkwardly straddling Alec’s shoulders, and Alec’s eyes are fixed on the view in front of him, glancing up at Magnus’ face for a moment debating reaching out to stroke him over through his lounge pants, then talking himself out of it.

“Not quite,”

“ _Good_ ,” Magnus insists, and then they’re rolling, and Alec’s first pinning Magnus down, then calling out as Magnus gets him over on to his front, sitting on his ass and stirring his hips there, hands running repeatedly up his back.

“Definitely not like this,” Alec tells the floor with his face pressed there, slapping his hand down in submission to be let up. He rolls over on to his back, snorts when Magnus stands and raises his hands in triumph, then takes his extended hand to be hauled to his feet, unable to resist leaning in for a kiss.

Magnus raises his arms then, a stance Alec’s seen him use multiple times when practicing with his magic, so thinks he knows which way to block. He ends up twisting out of Magnus’ grip in surprise at the quickness of his arms, but Magnus is grabbing for him again, tapping his hand on his side in triumph at the exposed unblocked spot, then leaning in to kiss his shoulder.

“Cheating,” Alec insists, kicking out and dropping Magnus to the floor though bending down himself quick enough to catch his head before it hits the ground. Magnus beams up at him, rolling in his cradled hand to kiss at his wrist, then swipes his leg out, bringing Alec crashing down beside him, rolling over to pin him with his knees at his wrists.

Alec’s eyes are on the slight swell in Magnus’ pants as he leans over him, and Alec lifts his head enough to kiss against it, then is sliding his hands up his thighs and gripping at his waist, tugging until he’s rolled over and Alec is the one to pin Magnus down.  

“Alexander,” Magnus smiles, arching up beneath him, glancing down at the way they’re knocking together for how Alec has him trapped, sitting up quick enough to surprise Alec back on to his heels and kissing him, then standing once again. “I must admit. You are quite good at this,”

Alec huffs in indignation and launches himself in a hard grip around Magnus’ waist, snorting when he ducks out of it and twists his arm up his back, kissing at his shoulder. “Jace never does _that_ when we do this,”

“I should hope not,” Magnus replies, the clipped tone of his voice leaving Alec snorting again, and distracting Magnus just enough for Alec to spin around, resume mimicking the stances Magnus used a few moves before, and laughing for every block.

“You’re pretty good at this yourself,” Alec teases, pulling him in without warning for another kiss, at which Magnus hums and presses hard against him, teasing his tongue along his lips to dart in his mouth, hands out and squeezing over his ass before he’s pulling away again, raising an eyebrow.

Alec beckons him forward, and Magnus narrows his eyes at the gesture, charging forward with his arms flying out to block Alec’s advance, ducking, twisting, a knee to the back of Alec’s thighs to drop him once again. Alec lands on one knee, leans to the side so Magnus tumbles over him, and laughs hard when Magnus keeps tumbling to be upright once again, dragging Alec up with him.  

Alec takes a step back as he catches his breath, watching Magnus do the same, unable to stop his eyes lingering over him. His skins’ starting to glisten with exertion, and Alec has to tell himself to concentrate; not that he minds, exactly, if this training session turns into something else. The look on Magnus’ face tells him it’ll be just as energetic, and Alec feels himself stirring for the heated look Magnus is giving him back.

“Should we start properly now that we’ve warmed up?” Magnus suggests with a shrewdly raised eyebrow, though steps forward to sweep a palm up over Alec’s chest before stepping back and humming to himself as though pleased.  

“We should,” Alec agrees, “not gonna do much for either of us just pretending like this,”

Magnus barely holds back his laughter, then is raising his arms again. The look on his face is more determined this time; wide, sweeping arcs of his arms as he blocks each of Alec’s advances, twisting gracefully on his heel to swipe his leg out and send Alec crashing back to the floor. Though Alec’s ready for it, pulling him with him, and their tumble means they’re rolling together and pulling each other upright in one fluid movement, pressing against one another hard for a moment before stepping back.

“Again,” Alec insists, and this time he’s the one on the defensive, attempting to concentrate on every one of Magnus’ attacks, though the determination on his face and the glint in his eye, the tension in his arms and all that taut skin and bulging muscle on display is far too distracting. Alec ends up crowding Magnus back against a wall and kissing him hard, with Magnus’ hands down the back of his pants and squeezing, humming as he chases his tongue.  

“Still angry?” Magnus asks as he shoves him backwards, smiling.

“Furious,” Alec agrees, and they begin sparring all over again.  

The smoothness of Magnus’ skin is too tempting, the need to feel that muscle beneath his fingertips and that growing bulge between his legs distracting him more times than he can count, and Alec is only comforted for Magnus having equally difficult a time keeping his hands to himself as well. After one particular tumble, Alec is straddling Magnus' lap, writhing against him as he grips at his ass repeatedly, then groaning softly as Magnus grabs at his hips and mouths over his length through his pants when he tries to stand.

But then Magnus is standing again, launching himself at Alec in another furious attack, aiming blows that are getting harder to block for how much Alec _wants_ him, the look in his eyes doing nothing to help either for saying that Magnus is thinking the same thing.

“You are exceptional like this,” Magnus blasts out, raising a hand to strike against his shoulder but instead managing to wrap his arm around his neck, dragging himself forward up on tiptoe into another hard kiss.

“It’s not fair how good you look when you’re like this,” Alec retorts, hands down the back of Magnus’ pants and grabbing at his ass, sliding one hand around to squeeze over his thickening length in tease before standing back, arranging his face into an innocent mask that Magnus huffs at in incredulity, stooping forward.  

“Now that, Alexander, is most definitely cheating,”

Alec raises his arms high in a shrug and is hit by a wall of muscled warlock, whose hands are everywhere; grabbing at his ass, tugging his pants and boxers down to mid-thigh and sinking to his knees to mouth over him, nuzzle against his shaft, before standing again to tuck him in and looking back at him just as innocent.

“I’d say the same for you,” Alec manages to stutter out eventually at the pleased smirk Magnus is giving him. And at his answering shrug, Alec loses any urge for _sparring_ , crowding Magnus hard back against the nearest wall and kissing him brutally, gasping as Magnus claws at him just as hard, groaning when their furious fingers snag their pants and boxers roughly down their thighs again for them to stir and rut together.

Magnus reaches down to grip them in his palm, humming as he rolls through his own fingers, biting down on Alec’s neck as he does. “Have we worked out enough of your tension yet, Alexander?”

“Not yet,” Alec denies with a shake of his head, reaching down to slot his fingers through Magnus’, groaning as Magnus pulls back just enough to snap his fingers so their grip is now slicked up, and they’re free of all their clothes, and Alec is humming as Magnus’ head thumps back against the wall.  

“And what should we do about that?” Magnus asks, sucking sharply on his pulse point, the sting of it Alec is sure goes straight to his cock.  

“More of this,” Alec manages to blast back at him, altering his grip so he can get his thumb swirling over each of their heads in turn and swallowing Magnus’ answering groan, then grabbing him by the wrists to pin back against the wall, kicking his feet apart, and writhing hard against him.  

“Do you want to take me here, Alexander?” Magnus teases, lifting his leg to wrap around Alec’s waist. Alec groans for it, mouthing hard along his neck and humming in agreement, swallowing with a click when Magnus snaps his fingers again to summon a bottle of lube from their bedroom, then shoves him back and pauses just long enough to pour it over his palm.

Alec flexes his fingers to coat them, then is reaching down to part Magnus’ cheeks, groaning as Magnus raises and wraps his leg higher to give him access, then sliding two fingers straight into him, cursing out at Magnus’ answering whimper and the way he clings tight to his arms, urging him for more. He works him open quickly, deep thrusts and scissored fingers, desperate to be inside him, that anger he’d felt only a short time before morphing entirely into need.

Alec grips behind Magnus’ knee and lifts him, groaning as he adjusts and wraps both legs round his waist, then there’s an awkward angling where they slip and slide together, a hiss when he presses hard against Magnus in a place that he wasn’t aiming for, then a hard, joint moan when he angles himself just right against Magnus’ hole, and Magnus impales himself on him, gasping and groaning as he sinks down.

“Magnus,” Alec manages to stutter out, but then he’s changing his grip so he’s got Magnus spread open on his forearms, rolling his hips up in experiment to find the perfect angle to fill him, then growling into his neck for how hot, and tight, and good Magnus feels trapped there between him and the wall, prone and taking every hard thrust into him with nothing but a desperate cry for more.  

Alec sucks bruises into Magnus’ neck as he drives into him splaying his legs another inch wider, groaning for the thought of how Magnus will later admire those bruises in the mirror and refuse to get rid of them until he absolutely has to. He leans back to grin at Magnus, monitoring the blissed out look on his face, then leans in for a hard kiss, chasing Magnus’ tongue with his own. And with the fight from earlier seeping out of him, it’s not too long before Alec’s legs are trembling, and Magnus is whimpering as he scrambles against him, writhing to try and urge Alec deeper.

“Couch,” he gasps out, knocking his forehead against Alec’s shoulder, and Alec thrusts hard into him a couple more times before huffing in agreement, stepping back and holding Magnus up as he slides out of him, then leaning back against him for another kiss.

“I’m going to ride you,” Magnus announces, tugging Alec by the hand so he’ll follow, shoving him into the couch and immediately straddling his lap, holding Alec steady by the base as he lowers himself on to him with one long groan. And Alec has only to loosely wrap his hands around his waist as Magnus gets comfortable, then is pressing his feet to the floor and dropping his head back against the couch, smiling as Magnus begins to ride him.

Magnus has worked himself up just as much as Alec, writhing and rolling in his lap with repeated groans, calling out his name repeatedly with his fingers digging into his shoulders for leverage with such force that Alec knows he’ll have his own marks to admire later. Alec drinks in the sight of him, reaching out to wrap his fingers in a loose grip around his cock, humming as Magnus curses out for it and begins trying to chase the friction there as well.  

“Alexander,” Magnus breathes out in reverence seconds before he’s tensing up, and Alec’s looking down to see him begin to splatter over his chest. He waits for Magnus to ride his orgasm out and slump a little in exhaustion, then grips his hips, first angling him back so he can watch the way he’s spearing him open, then driving up into him hard, growling when it’s not enough, and flipping them so he’s got Magnus pinned beneath him on the couch.  

“Better?” Magnus teases when he looks at him, and Alec huffs, shaking his head and leaning down to suck another bite into his neck.

“Magnus,” is all he says, then he’s raising and wrapping Magnus’ legs high around him, digging his fingers into the couch cushions beneath his head, and driving into him so hard that all he can hear is the repeated slap of skin together, and Magnus’ breathy gasps.

Alec chases that heat surging through him, encouraged by every whimper falling from Magnus’ mouth, and then he’s seizing up, grinding into him with a deep, long groan as he comes, mouthing at his neck until the last of his orgasm ripples through him, then slumping down hard on Magnus' chest with a grunt. Magnus tiredly wraps his arms around his back as Alec sinks his head down into his neck, both of them panting breath back into their lungs as they grip on to each other, then looking back at one another with sated smiles.

“Was that what you had in mind for… stress relief?” Magnus teases as he reaches up to pointlessly push the hair falling on Alec’s forehead.

“You know it wasn’t,” Alec huffs, spreading his hands wide on his hips, “but I’ll take it over any other method,”

“I am so glad I could be of use to you, Alexander,” Magnus smiles, pretending for all of a second to be offended.  

“I’m just glad you could keep up,” Alec retorts, smiling into Magnus’ neck as he wriggles disgruntled beneath him, kissing over the bruises he’s left there and dropping his forehead down on his shoulder with a sated sigh.

“Think I’m gonna have to tell Jace I’ve got a new sparring partner,” he teases, arching for the gentle swirl of Magnus’ hands over his back.

“Does that mean you would like to do that _again_?” Magnus replies, and Alec leans back to catch the wicked smirk on his face, shifting the expression to something else as he stirs his hips, snorting as his eyes flutter closed.

“I—”

But Alec’s response is cut off by a deep rumble of protest from his stomach, leaving them both snorting with laughter, and Alec raising himself to prop up on his palms then watching as Magnus drops one foot to the floor, shaking his leg as though it's gone numb.

“That… can’t have been comfortable,” Alec sighs, sliding out of him carefully and dropping to his knees to mouth over the inner thigh of the leg he’s had trapped against the back of the couch.

“I wasn’t complaining,” Magnus replies looking down at him with a smile, and Alec keeps the eye contact as he kisses along his shaft, lapping up the last spill of come there, smiling at his answering hum.

“I know you weren’t,”  

“Though perhaps after dinner we can take a long soak in the bath,” Magnus adds as he snaps his fingers to clean them up, barely hiding the hope in his voice. It’s late, getting close to midnight, and what Alec should be doing is eating something quick, grabbing an even quicker shower, and getting some sleep. But Magnus loves them wrapped around each other in a bathtub full of suds, and who is Alec to deny him anything?

“Can you clear a couple of appointments in the morning?”

“I can,” Magnus agrees, the surprise in his voice making Alec surge forward for a kiss.

“Then I’m all yours,” Alec tells him, “I’ll go in late tomorrow,” nuzzling into his neck before pulling back, reaching out to slot their fingers together to help Magnus sit up properly, then snorting for the wince he gives and the way he writhes down on the couch, grinning back at him with his lip trapped between his teeth.

“I know that, Alexander,” Magnus smiles, “especially after _claiming_ me like that,”

“You okay?” Alec whispers as he pulls Magnus to his feet, gentle fingers stroking over his ass as Magnus loops his arms around Alec’s shoulders, pulling him close.

“Extremely,” and Alec sighs hard against Magnus, stumbling forward a little as he wraps his arms around his waist, drops his forehead into the crook of his neck, and closes his eyes.

“I love you,”

“I love you too,” Magnus agrees, smoothing his hands down Alec’s chest as he steps back, slotting their hands together and tugging him through the apartment to the kitchen with a careless snap of his fingers rearranging the furniture back how he wants it. Apparently with no intention of either of them getting dressed again, which Alec loves, since it means dinner eaten snuggled up together under blankets on the couch. “Do you want to tell me about the rest of your day?”

“Nope,” Alec sighs, wrapping his arms around Magnus from behind and mouthing over his shoulder as he heats a pan on the stove, “only thing I wanna do now is be with you,”

“I’m all yours, Alexander,” Magnus tells him, one hand covering Alec’s pressed against his stomach as he turns back just enough to accept another kiss. Alec wraps his arms around him a little tighter as he turns back, humming into his neck and thinking just how lucky he is.

  
  



End file.
